


Snow

by rhostheirin



Category: Dragon Age: Origins
Genre: F/M, Pre-Relationship, Stories of Thedas
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-01-25
Updated: 2021-01-25
Packaged: 2021-03-18 02:15:20
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,073
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28984713
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/rhostheirin/pseuds/rhostheirin
Summary: Rhoslyn Amell has never seen snow before.
Relationships: Alistair/Female Amell (Dragon Age), Alistair/Female Warden (Dragon Age)
Comments: 1
Kudos: 12





	Snow

**Author's Note:**

> For the Stories of Thedas on twitter :D

Virgin snow dances all around the camp, settling softly on the grass one flake at a time. It is a normal and mundane occurrence to the citizens of Ferelden. They get it all the time, amidst the usual heavy rain and mud-caked landscape, or so she has read. Kirkwall did not get snow, at least that she remembers, and she had never been outside the circle before now. As she watches it fall around her, stood on the fringe of the camp, she realises that this is the first time she had seen it in person. And it is more beautiful than she had anticipated.

So much had changed since the last winter. Her friend had betrayed her, she had betrayed him, she became a Grey Warden, became the last of the Grey Wardens, and now she is on an impossible quest. Unite the whole country against the blight. They are making headway, but it is still so up in the air. She could die tomorrow.

“You must be freezing,” a familiar, soothing voice says behind her. “Here.” Alistair moves to her side and gently wraps a blanket around her small, shivering body. She had not realised that she was so cold until he mentioned it. “Are you okay?”

“Me? Of course, I’m fine,” she replies but that does not wash away his concern. She then becomes aware of how odd she must look, being stood on the very edge of camp and staring into the abyss.

“You look…is there something on your mind? I know the circle was _intense_. It must have been hard for you to see,” he asks, and she can see genuine worry in his eyes. He was always there for her, she mentally notes, always willing to offer a shoulder to cry on. She often dismissed him, pretending that she is content or else she will simply fall apart. And they needed a leader.

But he makes her laugh so very much. In the beginning, it had annoyed her. No, annoyed is the wrong word, but she wondered how he could be so flippant about the serious things. But then she understood. It’s a distraction. It helps them deal with the situation they find themselves in. If they don’t laugh, they’ll cry. She appreciates him so dearly and it occurs to her that he probably doesn’t even know that. She hasn’t ever told him. She doesn’t know _how_ to tell him. He’s always lending a shoulder, but what if the shoulder needs to cry too?

“It’s not that,” she replies meekly. It was a little bit. It was certainly not easy to go back there after the way that she had left. And seeing her home, her friends, the only people she’d ever really known, being slaughtered and traumatised was not something she was ever likely to forget. But she had helped them. Those who were left could restore order. She was first scared to be a Grey Warden, but she can do more now than she ever could as a circle mage, being locked away and her magic to be forgotten about. To train for years only for her talents to never be used. Yes, being a Warden was a death sentence but better to have a shorter life lived well than to simply waste away.

“You don’t have to pretend with me, you know? I know I can be silly and, as Morrigan will tell you, pretty stupid. But I can do serious stuff too. Or I can try at least,” he says sweetly, edging ever closer to her.

Her heart swells. She is unsure of what she ever did to deserve such a man. “Alistair, you’re not stupid at all.” He chuckles but she immediately hushes him. “I mean it. I love your humour and you always manage to force a smile from me, even when I do not feel like smiling. In truth, I don’t know what I would do without you.”

His expression alters as she speaks, becoming more serious and she feels as though she is beginning to see him now in a completely different light. A brighter, more loving light. “Y-you really mean that?” he stutters bashfully, avoiding eye contact with her.

“Of course. And actually, I’m not sad. Quite the opposite, in fact.”

“Oh? Usually, darkspawn don’t evoke those kinds of emotions.”

She chuckles this time, turning to face him now. “It’s snowing!” she exclaims excitedly and the look on his face as he finally meets her eyes suggests that he was not expecting her to say _that_.

“Uhhh, yes. Have you never seen snow before?”

“No!”

“No? How?”

“I’m not from Ferelden, remember. Kirkwall is all hot and sticky, and I don’t even really remember it much. My only real memory is well…when I was taken from my family and brought here. And then I was never able to leave the circle.”

“Maker, I…I’m sorry. I completely forgot that you weren’t born here,” he sympathises but it is not what she wants. She was not looking to reminisce about what her life could have been any longer, there is no sense in that, and she had spent a lifetime doing the very thing in the circle. It had made her nothing but miserable. She could not change her circumstances then, but she could _now_.

“No, Alistair, it’s okay. I only meant to say that the snow, it…well it shows that I’m finally _free_. I hated the circle. I’m no more a danger to people with my magic than you are with your sword or Leliana is with her bow. If, no, _when_ , we kill the archdemon, I can see the whole world. Help people. As a warden.”

“You’re right. You inspire so many people already Rhoslyn. I’m glad Duncan recruited you. And I’m yet to see much of Thedas myself if truth be told.”

She takes in a deep breath, her smile wide. “Perhaps, when this is done, we can see Thedas together?”

His smile matches hers, perhaps even bigger. “I…would like that. Very much.”

She pulls the blanket tighter around her body, and they remain there a few moments longer, taking in the temporary serenity. She pokes out her tongue, catching the cold flakes of snow on it like a child, and, for the first time, she feels a sense of hope. They _will_ defeat the blight. And they will do it _together_.


End file.
